Five In The Shadows
by sharky-clarky
Summary: Time to choose. One boy, one girl, both from the same faction, but will they chose the same path? All human story of if the Mortal Instruments characters were in the Divergent world. The name will be changing soon when I find a better one.
1. Chapter 1

Jace:

It was early, as in really early. I knew this of course but that didn't make me any less anxious. The day was finally here, the choosing ceremony, the day I have to decide the rest of my life in front of hundreds of people, great. I'd only turned 16 a few days ago and yet I was trapped to decide my destiny today.

It was five o'clock so I didn't have to worry about my mother and father waking up for another two hours, give or take. Grabbing my clothes that were left neatly folded on my bedside table, I walked as quietly as possible to the bathroom, every floorboard accepting my vow of silence as I walked.

The walls of my home are all bare, the same grey walls everywhere I turn, and the bathroom isn't much better. It's a cramp place, housing only the necessities, nothing more. I could die right here and no one would ever know this house had inhabited people. Every thing is cleaned to perfection, sparkling in the yellow light of the dimly lighting bulb.

Abnegation, that's where I was now; it's where I've always been, I'm just another face in a crowd of grey. We have no distinction, sure my hair glows like spun gold, even when cut so sort, and sure my eyes are brighter than any normal brown, but all that hidden behind the haze of grey clothing.

By the time I've washed and dressed in my mundane clothing, grey shirt and trousers, the most unflattering attire. I may not be the strongest boy of my age, that certainly went to any of the dauntless boys at my school, but I knew I was attractive, with my high cheek bones and sculptured jaw. Of course none of this would ever be flaunted, none of it would ever be mentioned, or even noticed. I'm probably going to hell just thinking such selfish things, but that's who I am. My name is Jonathon Christopher Wayland, and this isn't where I belong.

* * *

"Jonathon" I hear my mothers voice waft through the walls. It must be later now, six thirty to be precise. "Your breakfast is ready" and then she's gone I can hear her footsteps retreating down the stairs. She's not as agile as me; every step she takes sounds even louder than the last.

I found my mother stood at the stove in out kitchen, her dark brown hair pulled into its usual bun, her dark grey clothing hanging off her shoulders, making her look a lot bulkier than she is. I won't lie, my mothers beautiful. She had dark brown hair that shines even when theirs no light, her skin was tanned not golden like mine was, but beautiful all the same; her cheeks are tinged ever so slightly with a rosy pink, her eyes the most soulful and expressive hazel I've ever seen.

She smiled at me, the action alone brightening her already breathtaking features. She was an angel, my mother, how she ended up in Abnegation I'm not quite sure, she was smart enough for Erudite, Honest enough for Candor and kind enough for Amity. The only place my mother didn't fit was Dauntless, the brave (or the cruel as my father said) She was too caring, she'd never hurt another living soul, and with the bruises I see the Dauntless wear around school like trophies, no, my mother would never be Dauntless.

"Are you nervous?" she asked kindly, her warm hazel eyes boring into my golden ones, searching for the truth, the way the Candor side of her would, even when hidden behind her Amity smile.

"Were you?" I asked, genuinely curious "when you decided the rest of your life" she looks at me, her eyes full of sympathy, I never was a fan of sympathy.

"No" she said, her voice soft and light, the way she always managed for it to be. "I always knew where I belonged" she placed a hand on my cheek, her hands were slightly chilled from washing her dish, her fingers smelling like cotton, everything here smelt like cotton. It was a clean smell, a comforting smell, the smell of home. "And soon you will too" and then she returned to cooking or cleaning, or whatever selfless act she was providing. I should be doing that, today was my turn; if my father found out he wouldn't be impressed.

"Where's dad?" I asked lightly. I often noticed the absence of Michael Wayland in the mornings, but today I thought he might wish me luck, give me advice even. But today wasn't a day for false pleasantries; my father was going to be disappointed, that much I knew, his only son was leaving him, leaving the cold grey of Abnegation behind. There was only one problem; I didn't know where I was going. I could see it now, the cold look in his golden brown eyes that just screamed _you are not my son. _Would he visit me on visiting day? Would my mother? Would anyone? Or am I destined to be the child their family forgot. _Faction before blood. _I think too my self, hoping for some comfort in the words, there isn't any.

"Setting up for the ceremony" she said with her back to me "He's conducting it today after all" she gave me a weak smile over her shoulder, she knew this was going to hit me, and it was going to hit me hard.

"He's running the ceremony?" I blurted out, praying for her to be joking, lying even, I wouldn't even be mad, just don't let this be true.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you dear" she said, turning around so she was facing me, her hazel eyes concerned and filled with, once again, sympathy. Sometimes I wish my mum didn't care so much. "We thought it was best for you, letting you make you're own choice" I swallowed, it was one thing for me to see the harsh glare of his eyes from afar, disowning me as his only child, but for him to pass the instrument of choice to me, to actually hand me the knife, I wont be able to avoid his gaze.

A brief silence consumed the room, my mother bent over the sink, me moving my morsel of porridge around my bowl, suddenly not so interested in the usually bland meal. Sometimes my mother would slip me a spoon full of sugar, only when my father wasn't looking of course, then she'd wink at me, a gesture so youthful and playful on her face. I was going to miss her the most.

I looked over at the wall clock, _8:45_ the choosing ceremony started at nine, I'd better start walking.

"I guess I'll see you there" I said with a weak smile, hoping my mother didn't see the pain and fear registered on my face. The Abnegation didn't show emotions, it was selfish to burden other with our own feeling. Yet my mask was never quite right, my mother could see through it easily. She walked over, cupping my face between her still cool hands.

"What ever you choose" she said, looking me in the eyes, her voice so sincere it made me want to squirm under her gaze "I'll still love you, no matter what" and then she kissed my forehead, watching from the kitchen as I walked towards the door, towards my future.

Opening my door into the sunny morning, I saw a lot of the Abnegation houses doing the same. The house opposite me had the front door open, standing there was a girl, a girl I'd hardly spoken to, but I knew her name. Beatrice, Beatrice Prior, the girl a few days older than me. She looked at me and understanding passed through her blue-grey eyes. I may not know this girl but I knew one thing about her, she wasn't staying either.

I felt somehow comforted by that, to know I wasn't the only Abnegation to leave my family behind, to embrace a new life as someone new. Who would I be? Jonathon the peaceful? Jonathon the intelligent? Jonathon the honest? Or Jonathon the brave? One thing was for sure, I could never be selfless. The mere thought of leaving my mother behind proved that.

Beatrice nodded and I nodded back, before we both turned and walked to the ceremony, her with her brother, me completely alone.

* * *

Clary:

"Isabelle will you wake up!" I shouted, hitting the girl with her pillow for what felt like the thousandths time. She grumbled something back, something that didn't sound at all ladylike before burying her head in her pillows once again. "You leave me no choice" I said, trying to keep the smile off of my face. I grabbed the bottom corners of her quilt, whipping the heavy material away, leaving my best friend lying on her naked bed in nothing but her black underwear, the tattoo of a flame licking its way up her perfectly curved side.

"Clary" she screeched, standing up to her full height. Isabelle was a beautiful girl, five foot seven with inky black hair falling to her waist, pale, flawless skin and dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black.

"Get ready" I said, pointing to the bathroom of my apartment. It was the day of the choosing ceremony, the day for Isabelle to decide her life. It wasn't really a big deal, we all knew Isabelle Lightwood, she was Dauntless through and through, nothing would change that. the same for Marlene and the same for Uriah, today wasn't a big deal.

She grumbled at me again, making an obscene hand gesture I gratefully returned before shutting her self in the bathroom. I could hear the shower start up seconds later. Walking around my apartment I began grabbing the clothing I was gong to wear since I was currently wearing only a t-shirt more than Isabelle.

I remembered vaguely what my choosing ceremony was like, to feel the blade slicing along my palm, the thrill I felt when my blood sizzled over the coals, it was a year since I chose Dauntless over Erudite, a year since I said goodbye to the wretched lifestyle and finally lived my life my way. Oh yes, I belonged in Dauntless. When I was finally dressed in my black jeans and vest I began the morning battle of taming my wild, unruly hair. Unlike Isabelle who had hair so straight it made a _swoosh _noise when she moved, I had a thick birds nest of red curls that increased size after sleeping on them. Where Isabelle was tall, I was not; I was a short and skinny girl with pale skin and green eyes too big for my face.

I wouldn't say I was jealous, Isabelle may be beautiful but she also had an incredibly short temper, a characteristic I was glad to have left behind me. Besides, Isabelle was the popular girl; she was the Dauntless Queen at only 16 years old. She had two brothers, Alec who transferred to Erudite to be with his boyfriend and Max who was too young to choose his lifestyle.

Isabelle emerged what felt like hours after entering, her hair was already dry, her body covered by nothing but I towel. This, for Isabelle, was a very modest cover up.

"Jeans!" she shouted at me now standing in her underwear again, her fiery tattoo (one of my own creations) was shining with red and yellows all up her side. Following her command, I threw her jeans at her, laughing when they hit her face.

Once she'd bombarded both me, and herself, with eyeliner and other makeup, we left the apartment.

"Morning Red" I heard an unusually happy voice say behind me. By the time I'd turned around I was slapped with the image of Isabelle locking lips with her boyfriend. Zeke was two years older than Isabelle, a true Dauntless by my standard. He was a tall man, with dark skin, hair and eyes. He had a younger brother Isabelle's age and they looked practically identical, besides that fact Uriah had a snake tattoo behind his ear.

"Morning Zeke" I said, but he seemed too interested in running his fingers through Isabelle's long dark hair to even hear me. Isabelle was almost as tall as Zeke was right now, purely due to the added height of her boots. _No less than seven inches. _That's what Isabelle had said to me after asking why she wore the monstrous heels. I however, much preferred the comfort of my black combat boots.

"They at it all ready?" I heard a low voice growl from behind Zeke and Isabelle. Craning my neck to see, which with my height wasn't easy, I caught sight of the voices owner.

"Four!" I shouted, running at the 18 year old boy, throwing my arms around his neck for a hug.

"Jeez, Clary" he breathed out with a smile in his voice. Four was my brother by all ways but blood, the same Isabelle was my sister, he'd guided me and trained me last year, helped me through all the twists and turns that accompanied being Dauntless.

"It's Red, now" I said, puffing my chest out proudly, resulting in Four rubbing a hand through my curls, his blue eyes so bright and happy. Four and I were the instructors for the transfers this year, this meant guiding them through initiation and seeing who made it out in once piece the other end, and who winded up factionless. Since he didn't show his real name I thought it was only fair.

Not many people did know Four's real name, but I revelled in the fact that I was one of the lucky few who did, Zeke being the only other person. Four's only a year older than me, with dark hair and eyes so blue they sometimes hurt to look at, but he was my brother and I loved him, no matter what.

"Of course" he said with faux remembrance "How could if forget" he pinched my cheek slightly, the way a distant grandmother did to a baby. It was the hidden message that said _aww look how cute it is! _That made me slap his arm away. I was not cute. I may not be beautiful like Isabelle, or pretty like Marlene, but I was Dauntless now, and the Dauntless were note cute.

"We'd best get to the train" I said, excitement filling me when I thought of the train. Everyday I would walk to the tracks, sometimes with Four, sometimes without him, and I would jump onto the train, just for the sheer thrill of it. I'd stand in the door, wind whipping at my face and clothes, it made me feel like a bird, free from any thing that ground me to the earth. "the ceremonies starting soon" I was not Clary any more, the little girl who hid from her family, I was Red and I was brave.


	2. Chapter 2

**i would just like to clarify, for the purpose of this fanfiction, CLary is the same age as Jace. However, she lied about her age (Like Tris's mum) and therefore is beleived to be one year older. **

**You will learn why in later chapters :)**

**Please keep reveiwing, they make me very happy :3**

* * *

Jace:

There he was, my father, standing by the five faction bowels, Marcus Eaton by his side. The both despised each other, everyone could tell that by the way Marcus's blue eyes flared when my father spoke, or from the constantly tensed muscles that still managed to show through all the Abnegation clothing. Marcus despised my father for one soul reason – Michael Wayland still had his son.

Marcus's son, Tobias, left Abnegation two years ago and joined the Dauntless, the thought of something like that was ridiculous, but it had happened. I'd never met Tobias, I wish I had now, to think there was another lonely child, another Abnegation boy that just wanted out, maybe that would have helped my decision.

I remembered the choosing ceremony last year, the looks of pride and some of despair as children chose their future. How did they manage to choose? Was it the test, the test designed to tell us what to do with out lives, the very test I managed to fail along with all my others. Three factions. I could fit into three factions, none of which included the faction I was born to.

The list of names was read in reverse alphabetical by last name. that meant I was the fourth unlucky 16 year old to decide their own fate behind two Amity girls with long, blonde braided hair and a Candor boy who looked capable of ripping people limb from limb in a manner of seconds.

I looked behind me, searching for my parents, for the Abnegation girl, for her brother, for anyone. I locked eyes with a girl dressed head to toe in black. She was beautiful in a rather obvious way, her face was pale and perfect, her dark eyes shadowed by her thick eyelashes. She winked at me, a smile tugging at her red lips from the abashed look that probably slapped its way onto my face. Dauntless, she had to be, no one else wore all black.

She was laughing at me, I could see it, her lips forming the words I had despised my entire life. _Stiff. _Her perfectly full, red lips formed the word effortlessly, it struck me that she was probably one of the Dauntless that shouted it a school. That would explain the familiarity the word seemed to find rolling off her tongue.

I caught Beatrice's eyes next, she looked worried, nervous even, her Blue-grey eyes constantly watching the crowd, ignoring her brothers pointed glares. I nodded my head at her, hoping I could offer whatever comfort possible. Both of us were leaving here, i could see from the panic on her face, but who knew where she was going to end up. Erudite probably, she was always bright, maybe even Candor, she didn't strike me as the lying type.

"Zaldua – Mark" I spun around, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, it had begun. The Candor boy who looked half bear walked up to the bowls, his eyes not meeting any one around him. He took the knife from my fathers hand, I could see sweat tickling the boys forehead, just about hidden by his mop of dirty blonde hair. Her sliced the blade across his palm, only flinching away once. Dauntless, he had to be, where else could a bear of a boy like that end up. He stuck his hand out, palm down, letting his blood drip onto the dirt. Amity, the bear of a boy chose Amity.

Applause and dainty cheers were heard from the Amity side, a whole faction of red and yellow smiling away, like nothing could possible bother them, like peoples fates weren't being written right in front of there eyes.

"Yellar – Zoe" the first Amity girl walked to the podium with a bright smile gracing her features, she looked back at who must have been her sister and gave her thumbs up, she sliced her hand and hung her hand over the dirt. Amity again.

"Yellar – Flora" such an Amity name, Flora. The second girl, somewhat less excitedly walked to the bowls. She took the knife with shaking hands, her seeking out someone, most likely her sister in the crowd of people. She cut her hand slowly, looking at the blood that pooled before she thrust her hand over the water. The little Amity girl chose Erudite. Her sister looked horrified.

"Wayland – Jonathon" I heard my father shout. I'd been so caught up with the horror and sorrow on the Amity girls face as her sister left to the sea of blue clothed people I hadn't noticed I was next. Oh God.

I walked slowly, catching my father's eye as he smiled at me. He was proud; his son would be another great Abnegation leader, just like him. I smiled back as convincingly as I could, accepting the now clean blade from my fathers out stretched hand. The blade was cool as it cut across my palm, thick red blood blossoming where the wound was. I turned to the bowls, three in front of me begged to be welcomes. I could hear the coals as this hissed slightly, begging me to drip my blood on them, then there was the water, tainted red by the little drops of blood form the Amity girl, finally there was the glass.

Three bowls, three factions, three destinies, but which one do I choose? I couldn't be Candor, I'd lied to my father seconds ago, making him believe his son was here to stay, I couldn't live like that, knowing I didn't belong, my whole life would be a lie, the very thing the black and white clad figures despised. That left Erudite or Dauntless. Was I smart? If I was smart I would have figured something out by now, I would know what I was supposed to do. But if I was Dauntless I wouldn't be so scared, my hand wouldn't be shaking, making more and more drops of blood crash onto the marble floor at my feet.

I knew everyone had their eyes on my, but there was only one person I needed to see. I found her in the sea of grey, just another passive face, but I knew different. Her eyes were brimming with anticipation, she was expecting me to make a good choice, as every one was. She nodded at me, a smile gracing her lips so softly only I would notice. I knew then where I belonged.

I thrust my hand out, casting my eyes away as I let the blood drip from my palm, splattering with a hiss on the hot coals. _I make my own destiny. _I thought to my self. There was a collective gasp from, well, every where, that was quickly swallowed by whoops and cheers from the Dauntless. Some banged their feet, some punched the air, each one as thrilled as the last, they had their first transfer.

I sought out my mother's eye again and she was smiling at me, her eyes alight with admiration and pride. I had made the right choice. I didn't look at my father as I walked away, just left him standing there, his mouth no doubt hanging open as he watched his only son disappear into the sea of black clothes and cheers. I could only imagine the grin on Marcus's face.

Smiling away with my new family, I watched the rest of the ceremony unfold. My father stood with the perfect poker face, handing the knife and calling the names like nothing had happened, he didn't look at me once. People were talking to me, congratulating me on my transfer, clapping me on the back. I tuned them out as I watched other teenagers choose their fate, somewhat content with my own.

"Prior – Caleb" it was Beatrice's brother; he walked up, took the knife like any other person, and thrust his hand over the water. He chose Erudite. I saw Beatrice's face, she was as horrified as the Amity girl; she looked to her family, her eyes wide and scared. Then my father called her name.

"Prior – Beatrice" she walked up slowly, her hand wringing her wrist nervously. She took the blade, making a point to not meet anyone's eye. She took a deep breath before cutting her hand, watching the blood pool for a second before she looked at the bowls. It was over before I even realised it, no sound filled the hall apart from the sizzle of coals. She chose Dauntless.

She looked at her family one more time, a pained, remorseful expression crossing her features. Not even the Dauntless cheered this time, they watched, stunned by the fact two of the stiffs had transferred. Beatrice walked over, standing next to me, her blue-grey eyes cast defiantly at the rest of the choosing. Some people congratulated her, some clapped her on the back, but mostly they were too in shock. I didn't blame them.

"We made the right choice, didn't we?" she half whispered in my ear. I didn't reply straight away, just watched the beautiful Dauntless girl as she chose her own faction. She was welcomed with shouts and cheers, running straight into the arms of a tall Dauntless member with dark skin, hair eyes, everything about him looked dark, except his smile. It was as bright as the sun as he held the girl in his arms, kissing her forehead as she smiled into his chest it was amazing how people found love like that.

"Lewis – Simon" a tall lanky boy from Amity walked forward, his brown hair was a mess, his green-brown eyes hidden behind his back rimmed glasses. He took the knife, looked at the Dauntless, of all people, seeming to be looking for someone, only to realise they weren't there, then he cut his hand over the Erudite bowl. I saw as the beautiful girls face fell ever so slightly before her mask revived, hiding any hint of negative emotion, although her eyes did keep trailing to the Erudite faction, all dressed in blue.

"Yes" I said in Beatrice's ear, just so she could hear me "Yes, I think we did" she smiled back up at me, and I saw her for what she was. Not another Abnegation girl, not another transfer initiate. She was a runaway, just like me.

Clary:

"Four!" I shouted above the noise of the pit, listening intently to the vibrations that shook the stone of our underground compound. "They're here" everyone knew what I meant since next thing we were all crowded around the net, looking up to the roof, straining our eyes for at least a peek at the first jumper.

"Who do you think will be first?" Four asked from beside me, he was watching the hole, looking at the blue sky that peeped through.

"Isabelle" I said "Hands down" Four smirked at me, his boyish grin that reminded me he wasn't as old as I pictured

"Uriah" he said, cocking an eyebrow in my direction, a challenge flickering in his blue eyes.

"You're on" I said, extending my hand towards him, he accepted, and so the initiate bets began.

"Hey, Red" I heard from behind me, turning around I saw Tori, the woman who I helped at the tattoo parlour. Depending on your initiate rank, depended on what job you were granted. I was ranked second, a few points below a Dauntless born. I could have been a faction leader, but much like my 'brother' who ranked first, I declined. I preferred being apart of the community here at Dauntless, not running it. Leading ran through my blood, my father was leader, but i left that life behind, my faction came first. So I worked tattooing people, my entire apartment was covered in drawings, sketches and designs for tattoos. Sneaking a glance at Four I see a lick of the flames protruding from his collar, I designed them, and then I tattooed him myself on his demand. i did all of Four's tattoos, he'd never let anyone else see what he had hidden for so long.

I was about to ask what she wanted, but I felt the net sag beneath my hand, looking around I saw a girl dressed all in grey, propped on her elbows in the net, her eyes alight and wild. The first jumper was definitely not Isabelle. I turned to Four, who was already helping the girl out of the net. I couldn't hear anything he said until he turned to me.

"First jumper-Tris. Make the announcement Red" he said with a wink. Smiling at him in return, I turned to the rest of the faction.

"First jumper!" I shouted, everyone's eyes turning to me "Tris" the cheers began, every one whooping and hollering as Tris was guided through the sea of black clothing, piercings, and funny coloured hair. I laughed silently at how she looked, shocked and overwhelmed were only some one the words I would use to describe it. "The first jumper, a stiff" I said to Four, just so he could hear. He smiled and turned back to me.

"Unheard of" he finished, then we heard a scream. Well not a scream exactly, more an excited 'woo' that echoed through the walls of the cavern. Looking at the net I saw Isabelle, a smile plastered on her face as she lay, spread eagled on the net, breathing heavily.

"Can I go again?" she asked her signature smile plastered on her face. Four grabbed her hand, the way he did the stiff's, and pulled Isabelle from the net, she landed, graceful as ever, on the floor, not a hair out of place as she strutted down the aisle the faction members had made.

I saw as she started talking to her little brother, Max and how awkward the stiff looked standing so close. Isabelle did that, made you feel three feet tall and made of jelly. She was wonderful once you got used to her.

The net sagged again, and once again I saw a bundle of grey. _Another stiff. _I thought to myself as I watched the boy struggle to a seating position. He was, in a word, gold. His hair, his eyes, his skin, it was surreal. He looked almost lost; his eyes wide like a deer's in headlights. Rolling my eyes I reached out a hand towards him.

"Thanks" he said grabbing my small, pale hand in his large golden one. His grip was strong, too strong for stiff but it was too gentle to be a Dauntless. He wasn't going to last.

"Did you get pushed?" I asked sarcastically, my cocky mask of an instructor placed firmly on my face. He looked startled for a second, like the very thought was insulting him; rolling my eyes I knocked the comment away. "Name?" I said, trying to suppress the laugh as he just stared at me, his eyes looked confused as they looked from my hand in his to my eyes. Stiff's never did like physical contact. This is going to be fun.

"Oh, urm" he stuttered slightly, "Jonathon Christopher" he said, only half shyly, his confidence seeming to grow wither every second he spent in the compound.

"Are you sure?" I said giving him a look that just screamed _try again. _And he did, after a moment of thinking he sputtered out "Jace, call me Jace" and he flashed me a grin, a grin so unfamiliar with the face of a stiff. Yes, this is going to be lots of fun.

"Well then, Jace, welcome to Dauntless" I said pulling him out of the net, granted he did most of the work but I was still there to help. "Make the announcement, Four" I said, and he smiled at me, rolling his eyes.

"Sure thing, Red" he said with a wink. Then he made the announcement. The stiff started walking away to the other Abnegation girl, Tris I think her name was, but I caught his wrist, pulling him back slightly.

"Good luck, Stiff" I whispered in his ear my lips mere millimetres away from his ear lobe. He blushed, but I managed to keep my face stern. He walked over to the other stiff, his face still an amusing shade of pink. Isabelle gave me an approving look, her arms crossed across her chest to which I replied with a wink. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.


End file.
